linda may

I have this weird shirt in my closet. First of all, it’s a mock turtleneck, which I hate. Secondly, it’s a strange shade of tan, or peach – upsettingly close to my skin color, and third, it’s one size too big. I purchased it on a whim during a slightly frantic impulse shop in October. It’s January now, and I still haven’t worn it. So it hangs in my closet, a silent rebuke, my flesh-colored too-big mock turtleneck that is bound for Goodwill or my Buy Nothing group.

I also have an unworn leopard print sweater that is easier to explain; it is a new version of an old sweater that I like. With both of these items I had the thoughts, “I probably don’t need this. Do I really like it enough to buy it? Well, it’s on sale. And it’s ______ (insert name brand), and only _____ (insert low price).”

Like many women I know, I have a love/guilt relationship with shopping. I mostly love it, especially when I’m with a girlfriend. I love the trying-on, the feeling of playing dress-up, imagining the way I will feel when I get to wear each item. I love the way clothing can help us launch our identity anew each day. It was true in Brooklyn in 2001 one when I wanted to be a vintage vamp (my roommate and I used to call one of our favorite looks for work “60s secretary”) and it was true last year in Portland when I asked my best friend to help me shop to look “like a boss.” I enjoy the social aspect of shopping and have many warm memories of spending that time with close friends, and these memories then attach to the items I purchase.

And I have an inextricably potent feeling of guilt that attaches to so many of my purchases, which lingers long after the purchase. As I reach into my closet, I remember whether I bought that shirt on a credit card and I remember the feeling of guilt that I was overspending. This often happens when there is a sale and I justify, “But it’s Cynthia Rowley for only $14.99!” all the way up to hundreds of dollars of items I may or may not actually love. I also remember the purchases where I was looking for 1 perfect item and I found it, stayed focused, only brought that 1 item to the register, and felt I had made a virtuous purchase. I love these items – and the feeling when I put them on is very different.

So I have been reckoning with my emotions around shopping and its spoils for years. At its height, I was spending $660/month on clothing (for my family of four – but – mostly on me). Last year, I cut my clothes spending by half (woo-hoo!) but noticed the same old emotions were attaching to my purchases. I finally had an “a-ha moment” that I want every item I wear to feel like a “hell yeah, I get to wear my perfect jeans today!” not a “I guess I should wear this poufy bell-sleeve sweatshirt I paid $70 for.”

Clothing isn’t the only area where I buy things I don’t need. I have a similar problem with books, personal care/toiletry items, home supplies and decor. In 2024 I’m committing to not buying stuff in an effort to save money, pay off debt, and see what I can learn about how to shop properly (mindfully?) without all the guilt attached. And look, I’m not an expert at this, I’m just trying a thing. My ultimate goal: create more space (literally) in my life and my home, spend more time being creative, and own fewer things.

No Buying Stuff in 2024

Here are the rules:

1. Don’t spend money on stuff. (Especially clothes, personal care items, books & household decor)

2. Exceptions include:

a. stuff that breaks (like kitchenware) or wears out (like shoes)

b. stuff you use that you run out of (lotion, toothpaste – but you must use up all of the product you have squirreled away first – e.g. 17 sunscreen samples hiding in your cosmetics bags)

c. stuff you need in order to make/create/knit/sew/bake/brew/ferment BUT you have to try to borrow it first, or buy it secondhand (fabric, yarn, yogurtmaker?) I really want to focus on creating instead of consuming this year.

d. If someone gives me a gift card, I am allowed to spend it.

e. Ok to spend money to clean or repair stuff I use

3. What about coffee? Wine? Eating out? I’m reducing but not going cold turkey.

a. one economical breakfast date/month (there’s a place we love with GIANT eggs benedict that we split)

b. one family meal out/month (kids can pick – usually conveyor belt sushi)

c. coffee/tea budget is $40/month split between me & my husband

d. assuming at some point I will forget my lunch on the kitchen counter, or oversleep, a $30 monthly budget for eating lunch at the food carts at work

e. if we can stick to the above, I estimate we can save at least $200/month

4. What about services? Can we get a massage, haircut, pedicure?

Massages and haircuts are in. The psychological benefits of both are pretty undeniable.

Pedicures are out. I can do them at home with my 37 bottles of nail polish.

5. What about travel?

We still get to travel – but we have to plan ahead, budget, and not use credit cards to fund.

6. Planned purchases – a short list. Each member of the family can share a few items they think they will need to buy this year. Stay tuned – I will post the list next week!

Readers, please send me vibes of strength and resistance.